


The Conversation Car

by VioletThePorama



Category: Infinity Train (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Growth, Character Study, Epilogue, Gen, Guilt, I wanted more on Grace, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Post-Canon, Season 3 was a thing that happened, The kid is just someone on the train
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletThePorama/pseuds/VioletThePorama
Summary: Grace and The Cat have a much needed conversation.
Relationships: Grace Monroe & Simon Laurent, Simon Laurent & The Cat
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	The Conversation Car

Grace let go of the Apex. Slowly, one by one, the kids who she had taken under her wing split off from the group. A few of them vanished before her eyes, with their counter ticking down to zero and sending them on their way. Every time, she waited until she was alone before she kicked at the constructed branches or boxes of the train and inevitably broke down crying. 

Their doorways always showed a house. Some apartment or building that made the kid light up like a Christmas tree, but Grace couldn’t help but be fearful of the portals she had avoided so adamantly for so long. No matter what she told the others, she maintained a shameful, guilty fear of what laid beyond the train. 

Some of the Apex were slowly picked up by Denizens, ones who made enough of an impact on the kids as they went from car to car (the mall car was left behind, filled to the brim with familiar destruction that Grace couldn’t help but hate and long for simultaneously) that the kid choose to leave with them. It was usually a Denizen who was obviously created for the sole purpose of helping passengers. Something big and loyal, or a little chatterbox that rested on the shoulder and talked whenever the kid got scared. 

Eventually, everybody from her old group was gone. One way or another. She had picked up and lost a few more kids since then, until she was down to an eight-year-old named Tyler who babbled on and trailed behind her. Grace had come across him, stuck in a puzzle car that seemed to be themed after an aquarium. 

After calming the kid down, she had let him tag along, and listened as his stuttered facts about dinosaurs filled the silence.

Tyler had asked once what her number was (holding his hand up, an even one hundred inscribed across his palm like a bran), and Grace hated herself for snapping at him for it. The gloves always stayed on. Grace was terrified to see what her number was. 

Whenever she thought she was doing well, that her number might go down, everything bubbled over. Frustration was left unchecked, and without anybody to help her step back and cool off, she blew up. 

(Once, when she had a mixed group of little kids, ones with the smeared remains of rubbed off lipstick and numbers that were slowly dwindling down to zeroes, she had yelled at them. A lightbulb Denizen that one of the kids had taken to toting around suffered for it. After a precise hit, sending it to shatter on the floor, the little thing had given a pathetic whimper before going dim. Several of the group had split off right there, and Grace could practically  _ feel _ numbers being tacked on, trailing up her arm. Never knowing whether or not to be relieved that she would be on the train for longer, safe where she was more certain of her surroundings than she had been throughout her entire childhood, Grace let herself stew in guilt rather than apologizing to the teary face of the little girl whose life she had certainly ruined. The gloves stayed on.)

They came across another train, one themed after an arcade of some sort. Grace let Tyler run off to play with a Denizen who looked about his age. 

And that’s when Grace spotted The Cat. 

Of course. Grace hated the train. She hated little kids wandering onto it for things they didn’t understand and being made to stay on until they had  _ fixed _ it. She hated One One for making dangerous cars that actively tried to kill the passengers. She hated herself for making a cult that had only led to more harm than good. 

“Grace,” The Cat hissed, spotting her. Grace, at some point, had unconsciously stumbled closer to where the Denizen was running her stand. She watched The Cat scan her face, free of lipstick, and look around for more feral kids, lying in wait. But there were none. 

“The Cat,” Grace responded, but it came out croakier than she had been aiming for. This encounter was one she had been dreading. She waited another moment while The Cat scanned the arcade, obviously looking for somebody. They didn’t always travel together, but… “He isn’t here.”

“Oh?” The animal swished her tail, obviously curious. “Where’s the rest of your little group then?”

“There’s no Apex anymore.”

The Cat gave a bit of pause. “Then, where is  _ he _ ?”

Grace inhaled sharply but didn’t answer. She kept her eyes trained on The Cat, watching as the Denizen seemed to realize something. When she went to speak again, Grace cut her off, increasingly distressed with what had to happen. “He didn’t get off the train.”

That seemed to throw The Cat for a loop. “Then...?”

“Simon’s dead,” Grace told her. The words rolled off her tongue mechanically, leaving a bitter aftertaste. The Cat froze, fur standing on end. Then she prowled, jumping to another stand closer to Grace and watching the passenger with narrowed eyed. 

“He’s dead,” The Cat hissed. “And your group had disbanded.”

The passenger looked down. She reached and dug her fingers into the wrist of her glove. The wrist that probably had numbers crawling up it, incriminating, glowing,  _ beautiful _ numbers. As the  _ null  _ Denizen crept closer, Grace suddenly felt little again. Terrified like she had just gotten on the train and wasn’t sure how to navigate it. Wandering through the cars with meager numbers on her hand, and she had just wanted  _ to go home _ because even being  _ alone _ was better than being  _ scared _ .

The Cat clawed at the soft padding of the stand, seeming to take Graces silence as something incriminating. 

“It wasn’t like that,” Grace defended, voice raising in pitch. She stood stiffly as her vision clouded over, blurry with tears, and tried to think of what to do in a situation where she couldn’t smile and dance to distract from how horrible she was being. 

“Sure it wasn’t,” The Cat spat, tone venomous. 

“He was going to  _ kill _ me!”

“And who gave him that idea?” Grace stopped, stunned. The Cat went on. “Go ahead, spin your tale of misfortune. This isn’t a new song or dance to you, Grace. Pretend that I’m one of your little Apex warriors, and you’ve just killed my best friend for my own good.”

Grace couldn’t speak. Her throat and eyes burned, and she could feel herself shaking as she tried not to sob in front of the horrible,  _ dreadful _ cat. 

“I’m sure you’ve worked this all out in your head already,” the animal continued. Grace  _ had _ worked it out before. She had thought about the inevitable meeting with The Cat. How she would have to tell her about Simon, and… “So, tell me Grace. Am I supposed to forgive you at the end of this?”

_ No _ , Grace wanted to say. She wanted her to, but The Cat wasn’t  _ supposed _ to forgive her. Nothing Grace had worked out in her head let them leave on equal terms. 

Before she could voice that, a weight threw itself against her side, and little arms clung to her legs. 

“Miss Grace!” Tyler cheered. “I met a-”

The boy paused as he looked up at her, immediately wary because adults weren’t supposed to cry. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, scrunching up his face. 

Grace swallowed down the ache in her chest and took a deep breath. Then she shook her head and put on the softest voice she could muster up. “No… I… got scared, and The Cat was- helping me.”

“Oh,” Tyler nodded. It was a blatant lie, but The Cat did nothing to disprove it as the boy turned and gave the animal a blinding, gap-toothed smile. Then he looked back at Grace. “Are you okay now?”

“Yeah,” Grace said, wobbly. She gave him a watery smile. 

“Great!” He grinned and tugged at her hand. “Come on! Micka told me about dinosaurs!”

The girl blinked, letting tears wash down her face as she looked at the booth that Tyler had been sitting at. A weird looking alligator sat at it. 

“I can go in a minute,” Grace told him, and Tyler nodded, taking back off in the direction of the Denizen. 

Then Grace looked back to The Cat, who seemed to have softened a bit at the sight of the child. The passenger stared for a minute, trying to puzzle out if the animal would miss Simon as much as she would. 

Never again would Grace see his dorky little blush whenever she did a little flourish in front of him, dancing and light on her feet where he trampled over everything, clumsy and awkward. She didn’t know how many times she turned to one of the kids, or woke up with Simon’s name on her tongue, ready to chew him out or tell him something. Or just to make fun of him. 

But he had tried to kill her. 

“How did he die?” The Cat asked quietly. 

“One of the Gohms,” Grace managed, voice breaking. She let out a sob and brought up her hands to muffle any others that tried to spill their way out. The Cat didn’t move, instead watching as Grace took several minutes to recover.

Eventually, the passenger took another breath, squaring her shoulders before looking at The Cat. “I’m sorry,” she said, before going to find Tyler. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to do some epilogue-esc stuff. The third season sort of went downhill towards the end there, and it left me feeling a little unfulfilled, even though I absolutely adored the first two seasons. So here's this. 
> 
> The Gohms are what the wiki has listed as the weird roach dogs.


End file.
